Gracie Girl Blog

An excerpt from a poem I wrote on the last night I spent in my college house in May of 2023:

“1:46am
How hard it is to be in a half empty house
in a place I love
but am leaving.
To feel both like I’m leaving early and late.
To feel like I didn’t get enough time here but also know I absolutely did.
Something feels like it’s missing,
But I’m not sure what and I don’t know if it’ll be back.
…I didn’t think I’d have to grieve how good it was.”

One of the lessons I’m learning in my 20s, that I feel wholly unprepared for, is how to grieve the good. The good seasons, good places, good nights with friends, etc. I have to credit Anna for the little saying below that has helped me understand why this time of life can be so tough amidst so much good:

Growth = Change
Change = Loss
Loss = Pain
Pain = Change

Even in the good changes – the going to college, the dream jobs, the new friends, the new church homes, the weddings and new cities – there is loss. Loss of old routines and people in your daily life, loss of comfortability (heavy on that one), loss of specific places that were home for a while. And those are just the natural losses that you come to expect when life changes. There’s a deeper level, too. A friendship ending you thought would survive the distance, wondering if you’ll ever find a church or community group that feels like safe (all former VBC Radford members – I see ya), and wondering if any apartment or house will truly feel like home or if we’re always chasing the comfort of our childhood.

I knew coming into this summer that it would be difficult to not be living the life I did last summer. And as much as I remind myself that I get to only work 40 hours a week and not 60+, I get to have my own space and make my own food and routine and go to church, I’ve learned to some days accept it’s just hard. To accept there’s nothing more I’d rather do some mornings than saddle up one of my favorite ponies at 5:30am and wrangle the herd in.

Just like grieving my sweet little college life in Blacksburg, I’ve learned I need to give myself time to grieve my ranch life. I just miss being out on the trails all day, working with my hands, talking to people and bonding with my fellow wranglers as we worked. I miss being physically tired at the end of the day knowing falling asleep will be easy. I miss the slowness of savoring precious Sunday mornings, knowing I had nowhere to be and deserved to stay in bed as long as I wanted.

Every season requires a different sacrifice. At times, I hated the constant change college semesters brought, I got really tired of having 24 hours off a week last summer, and somedays at my current job its hard to get over looking at a screen all day when there’s a whole world alive outside.

At the end of the day, I am thankful to have so many times in my life I would relive if I could. I’m thankful for all the people I’ve collected from all my places and seasons. I’ve never liked change, and I think the last few years have been quite a lot of exposure therapy to it, but the good outweighs the hard by miles.

In the middle of the grief of what was, there are welcome comforts that surprise me. The friendship I didn’t think would survive the distance but did, the realization that it is a rare privilege in this world to have picked my own college degree and what I want to do with it and where, and summer nights with new friends that somehow…do feel like home.

He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
Psalm 1:3

I think this type of grief, which is much less intense than other types, is the kind to sit in for a while. Then get up, and be thankful for what you have and remember that you’re likely living in a season of life you’ll look back at fondly. As my mom loves to say – the best is yet to come. 🙂